Who We Once Were
by Raixser
Summary: Okay my ideas on the origins of numbers seven through to twelve of Organization XIII. Rated T as a precaution I guess
1. Saix

A/N: Yes I know this kind of thing has been done before but this is just my version of who I think numbers seven to twelve were before becoming Nobodies (since we pretty much all know where the original six are from by now). Please review as well.

Disclaimer: Uh yeah I own nothing at all. The characters belong to Square Enix and Disney.

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**Number seven: Saïx**

Aias could barely conceal his excitement as he smirked while holding his cutlass towards the unarmed _'Captain'_ Jack Sparrow. He and the rest of his mutinous comrades howled with laughter as their new leader, Barbossa, taunted the former captain.

"Well now Jack. Quite a fix yer in isn't it? The whole crew takes orders from me no, and you've got no ways of defendin' yerself."

Even the ever-optimistic, easy-going Jack Sparrow couldn't hide his rage and disbelief at what was going on. The entire crew, including Bootstrap-Bill the most loyal of the lot, was aiming either cutlasses or pistols at him. "And you're a coward, Barbossa! I bet without this mutinous bunch of sea-rats backing you up ye wouldn't have the guts to overthrow me!"

Barbossa laughed loudly and took Jack by the shoulder. "Sticks 'n' stones Jack. But yer in no position t' be makin' such remarks. Now, I'm a generous man, Jack. I'm willin' t' let ye live. See over there? We're gonna drop ye off on that island over yonder. And as tradition dictates we'll give ye a pistol so's ye can eat somethin'."

Aias grinned manically. The whole crew knew what that meant. And what was going to happen next. Barbossa shoved Jack away against the mast. "Bootstrap! Liberate the 'captain' of any unnecessary baggage!"

Although he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at this, Aias jeered and egged Bootstrap on with the others. Bootstrap took about ten steps forward until he stood in front of Aias, who he gave a small grin before turning to face Barbossa. "I say we let Aias do the honors! After all, none of this would've happened without him!" he said pulling Aias forward by the shoulder.

There was a loud chorus of agreeing cheers from the rest of the crew. Through this the occasional 'Aye' could be heard being yelled from some of the crew members nearer the back of the crowd.

Barbossa smirked. "Aye, then it's settled! Mr. Aias! Proceed!"

Aias's smirk changed into an almost psychopathic grin. He and Bootstrap exchanged punches on the shoulders before he strode over to Jack, drawing his hatchet. He'd rather have used his large, spiked mace for this. Axes, or at least hatchets, always seemed too flimsy, much like swords. But a mace it was sturdy and if used in the right way could kill a wild animal in one stroke. It wouldn't have mattered if Sparrow got injured by the sturdy weapon, he was going to die soon anyway, but he settled for the hatchet instead.

"Say ya prayers cap'n. It was nice sailin' under ye. But now ye gotta go." he said, voice dripping with anticipation. With that said Aias raised the hatchet over his head and swung it downwards, expertly missing any contact with Jack's body as he sliced off the man's belt. He continued in this manner until Jack had nothing left on him apart from his clothes and hat.

Then for good measure, and the sheer pleasure of doing so, Aias slammed the wooden handle of the axe into Jack's stomach winding him enough that he could make no resistance.

A large, dark-skinned man grabbed Jack Sparrow and led him to Barbossa who whispered something in the former captain's ear before handing him that pistol. The pistol given to all pirates when they are marooned. Containing that one shot which would undoubtedly be the one to end said pirate's life.

Aias could barely contain a loud outburst of laughter as he contentedly imagined that moment in his mind, over and over again. The dramatic, gory image of it was purely delightful.


	2. Axel

A/N: And it's back! And Lea's name is pronounced 'Lee' just for your info.

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**Number Eight: Axel **

"Hey! We're on, Lea c'mon!" David called, waving at his partner. Snapping out of his momentary trance Lea looked up towards David, with a nod and a cocky smirk as he removed the light shirt from his torso and ran towards the back of the stage.

"We'll give the crowd something they'll never forget! Right, partner?" Lea slapped David's shoulder good-naturedly, his smirk having turned into an enthusiastic grin. "Besides Nani and Lilo's out there tonight." he added, jabbing his partner's side with an annoying, knowing look on his face.

David's face reddened and he shoved Lea a little. "Shut up." he scolded, although losing the impact because he was still grinning from ear to ear. Both men picked up their torches and nodded at each other before Lea lit them. As usual the man's eyes watched in awe as the flames burst into being. David watched from a distance, giving his partner a little time to get into psyche for the show –while at the same time making sure he didn't burn himself (he had already lost half of both his eyebrows due to carelessness). They had found out the hard way that Lea performed a lot better when he did this little ritual of his before a show.

The flames danced, reflected in the man's glazed over eyes as they took in every detail of the fire. Soon David's voice brought him crashing out of his trance. "They're getting restless. Now let's give them that show 'they'll never forget'!" he said, liberating his share of the torches from his partner's hands.

"Yeah."

And with that both men took their positions on either side of the stage; ran forward and simultaneously cart-wheeled onstage, tossing their torches into the air at the beginning and catching them skillfully as soon as they had straightened up.

Instantly the clapping and verbal praise rose up from tonight's crowd. Doing a quick scan, Lea noticed that some of his friend's had even showed up. Oh yeah, tonight was going to be fun!

Lea started. Long limbs raced to the front of the stage as he skillfully twirled the torches in between and around his legs and torso. At the other side of the stage, David was mimicking his movements precisely, each twist or twirl flowing effortlessly from the one before. Soon both men were caught up in their own personal world. The crowd faded away, along with their cheers and applause. Right now nothing existed except them, their partner and the flames atop their torches.

Now the pace picked up, the moves in their dance became more intricate and complicated as they worked closer together. Flames practically licking at each other's skin as they juggled, somersaulted, twirled and twisted. Neither flinched at the close proximity or the slight singing of the fine hairs on their arms; they trusted each other enough to know that neither partner would let the other get burnt.

Small embers of the flames trailed behind the torches with every swing made. Sweat from heat and work trickled down the men's faces and torsos. From opposite ends of the stage two sets of eyes connected and the silent agreement was reached: Time for the finale.

As one the two men raced towards the centre, Lea rolling across the stage as David cart-wheeled over his head. The torches were thrown to the opposite performer and were crossed together before a single, deep, alcohol-filled blow from either man sent the flames shooting upwards towards the stars in an impressive tower.

Screams of mirth and the sounds of skin colliding with skin entered their trances, bringing them back into reality. Grinning at each other with a nod, the two performers stood and bowed. "Glad you enjoyed the show! We're here all week!" Lea called out to the crowd with a wave.


	3. Demyx edited

The water gently caressed Myde's feet before slowly retreating; only to begin the process anew, inching casually further up the beach every time. The young boy glanced over his shoulder to the base of Mount Olympus. Somewhere above those clouds the new coliseum would be nearly finished.

But Myde didn't care. His gaze returned to the horizon. "Just another place that's gonna be full of nothing but needless violence. And people paying to see beasts and other humans slaughter each other." he muttered. _But that's what Demetrius wanted…_

At the thought of his older brother Myde scowled then struck the nearest boulder with his fist as he let out a frustrated cry. Demetrius had been the favorite. Demetrius had been strong and handsome. Demetrius had been perfect.

Myde was always in the background, mindlessly honing his music. But that had been alright because Myde liked it that way. And then, after his many friends and admirers left, Demetrius would always walk with Myde on the beach. It was their favorite place. They would talk and laugh and tease and scuffle just like the brothers they were.

But now Myde walks the beach alone, staring gravely out over the water. And he never played anymore. His instruments locked away forgotten back at home.

For now nobody noticed him still. They were too busy grieving. But once they remembered his existence, Myde would be forced to take the place of Demetrius. If they would want anything else from Myde then he would gladly give it to them, even selling his precious sitar. That's just who he was. But the one thing he couldn't do. The one thing everyone would expect –want– from him. He just couldn't give them. Myde could never be Demetrius. Not even close.

Again Myde's fist collided with the boulder, tears now streaming unchecked from his eyes. But he didn't sob.

It had been fighting that took Demetrius from the world. He had been training in the mountains (a suggestion from his mentor Chiron) to prepare himself for when the coliseum finally opened. He'd told Myde that he was going to fight in the coliseum for both of them. Face the great hero Hercules and become a renowned hero himself.

And he'd make sure everyone knew about Myde. _'My little brother and my biggest inspiration.' _that's what Demetrius had told him on countless occasions.

Myde collapsed onto the sand, not caring that his robe was getting soaked. It would dry out before the morning anyway.

He hated this, he really did. Demetrius had been too young to die. Too full of promise. "He was supposed to stay with me…" he choked out. Taking a deep breath to calm himself Myde stood up. and once again looked to Olympus. He would never go to the coliseum and he would never fight.

_But…,_ he thought as he started on his way home, _I'll write songs for him. Like the hero he was deserves. _

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A/N: Yes I wanted Demyx to have a bit of angst so I killed his big brother. And maybe not the most original home world for him but it was better than Atlantica and him being related to Ariel or something like that. Anyways hope you liked this one and hopefully it won't take as long to write Luxord's chapter. 


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